Before giving me a ride in the Ferrari Breadvan, John approached Ray Meringues, the owner of the yellow Enzo. He pulled him aside and discreetly mentioned that I was a big fan of the Enzo and that, if at all possible, Id be thrilled to get a ride in one. Ray looked over towards me and smiled. Sure, no problem, he said. My jaw dropped. An Enzo ? Did this guy really just say okay to giving me a ride in my most favorite car of all time ? Will I really get to submerge myself into a cabin of carbon fiber and be one with Ferraris newest and most exotic super car ? I couldnt believe it. I was near shock. My mind was having trouble fathoming the simple idea of getting into a car. but its not just a car, its an Enzo ! The merri-go-round circus in my head was on full speed as I tried to process what just happened. John smiled as he walked by me and I struggled to mutter a thank-you but my mind was too jumbled to formulate coherent words. Barely conscious, I wandered about the pits, snapping pictures of different cars. Talking with owners and enthusiasts alike, I was enjoying the day; trying to keep the thought of riding in an Enzo from being the only thing in my head. After what seemed like hours, Ray approached me. I saw him walking towards me from a distance and I looked away, pretending not to see him. I didnt want to assume he was coming over to talk to me. Sure enough, he was. Hey, my friends going to take you out on the track in a few minutes, hes just going to take someone else right now; youll be after him, though. I managed to string together words of gratitude as this little kid inside me started jumping up and down, screaming; YAHOOOOOOO !!! I went to Kellys car and grabbed the spare helmet he said I could use. I walked around with it, anticipating the Enzos return. I just happened to be standing by the most famous F40 of all time when the owner, Roland Linder, turned to me and said words that I can still here. Tired and sweating from driving the piss out of the fastest F40 the world has ever seen, all damn day, Roland looked at me, his eyes steady through his glasses, and said: You I want to take you for a ride. Are you available? Can you go? Am I available ? HA HA! Is he kidding me ? Am I available to go for a ride in an F40 ? And not just any F40, the F40 LM. Can I go ? Is he serious ? OF COURSE I CAN ! Hell yes! I said. I felt my face stretch out from the huge smile that just landed on it. Am I allowed to have this much fun in one day ? Rolands assistant helped me squeeze my way into the car and secure the 5-point harness. The dash in front of me looked like it was stolen from the cockpit of a plane. A sea of buttons, switches, levers and lights crowded into a horizontal boardwalk that extended from the drivers side of the car, all the way to the passengers side. A fleeting thought of cartoons I had watched as a kid flashed through my head; whatever you do, dont touch the red button! Roland fell into the car with ease, fastening his harness and checking the gauges. With my helmet on, I had to slouch down into the seat as much as possible; the roof was a lot lower than it seemed. The more I slouched, the more my crotch yielded to the round, metal base that was the harness. Please dont hit any bumps I thought. Once the doors closed, we were ready. Roland shifted into gear and we rolled towards the grid. I felt everything. Every crack in the ground, every tiny rock underneath the tires, everything. Just inches from my chest was a very complex dashboard. My helmeted head was tapping against the roof; my body stuffed into a racing seat. I loved every bit of it, it was so exciting. Once cleared for take-off, we fled from the grid into the end of a turn and poured out onto the straight. We flew down the straight, the screaming exhaust note raging against the sidewalls. My eyes moved back and forth from the track in front of us to Roland. He was calm, as if sitting at home, watching tv. He could probably do this with his eyes closed. The car rushed towards each turn, only to dramatically decrease in speed right before entering them. Upon exiting, Roland would mash the gas and wed be rocketing towards the next turn. The F40 is a very commanding car and, after our first lap around the track and with Roland at the controls, it seemed as if the car controlled the track. That rather than the car steered into the turns, the track straightened itself out for the car. Roland threaded the track like a sewing machine through cloth, relentlessly and effortlessly weaving in and out. This F40 LM beast seemed to take charge and gave the illusion of bending the turns and ironing out the hairpin into a straightaway. The roar of the engine just added to the whole hardcore experience. I looked over at Roland; he was still as calm as could be. A few more times racing around the track and we pulled back into the pits. I was aglow from the thrashing I was just a part of. It was amazing. Even more amazing was my good fortune. First, a ride in a 355 with John Houghtaling, then this ride with Roland in his F40 LM and a show-stopping ride in the Breadvan right in the middle ! I almost felt guilty anticipating my ride in the Enzo. Almost. I pulled the string in the door, releasing it and exited Rolands car with the help of his assistant. Matt and Ryan were trying to ask me what I thought of the ride but I was too much in a fog to give a detailed DEScription. Dizzy with joy, I made my way over to where the Enzo was last parked. During my ride with Roland, the Enzo came in, picked up someone else and went back out. Did I miss my chance to get a ride in an Enzo ?